You Don't Know
by tatecherie
Summary: It only takes one phone call to change your life as you know it. It only takes one command, one person, one word, one kiss. As life quickly does a 180 for the members of Team Gibbs, new relationships are formed, & old ones are broken. Set during S7. TIVA.
1. Flames

**Disclaimer: **I do not own NCIS or its characters. Unfortunately.

Hey everyone! Here's my second fic.....I already have this one done (pretty much), so I decided I'd go ahead and post it now. The only matter is when I'll be able to get on the computer to upload it all........

Hope you like it!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Good morning everyone!" Tony DiNozzo walked into the bullpen, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, you seem awfully happy today," Ziva David replied from her desk, suspicion written all over her face. "Tell me, you had a......_good_ night, yes?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head curiously.

"Oh-ho, Ziva, _very_ funny. Actually, I _did_ have a good night. A _very_ good night," he winked. "Night's name was Gabriella," Tony remarked, over-dramatically rolling his tongue on the name.

Gibbs rolled his eyes as Ziva casually wandered over to Tony's desk, leaning against it provocatively.

"A new little Latina flame?"

"Ziva! I'm offended! I don't refer to them as 'flames.' It's just too..." he tilted his head, searching for the right word. "Impersonal."

"Impersonal."

Tony nodded, giving her an expression that read "Duh."

"But you can refer to these women as 'them?'" she asked smugly.

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it and turned to McGee. "Probie! _I need your help!_" he whispered urgently.

"No time for it, DiNozzo," Gibbs finally spoke. "We've got a dead sailor at Quantico."

The team quickly grabbed their gear and headed out. Ziva turned to Tony once they had all gotten in the elevator. "So who is this Gabriella?" she asked as the doors closed.

* * *

Once the team had arrived at the crime scene, the agents dispersed and started on their usual assignments. Gibbs was talking to the people on the scene, while Ziva was taking pictures of everything. Tony was hitting on a hot, blonde reporter who was standing nearby, while Ducky and Palmer were trying to estimate the time of death. McGee was on the phone with Abby, _supposedly_ discussing the forensic evidence that had been sent ahead of time.

"So, yeah, if you want to hang out sometime, that'd be-" Tony was cut short by Gibbs.

"DiNozzo!" He looked over at Tony with his infamous, expressionless Gibbs stare. Tony automatically ducked his head when he was called, causing the reporter to smile uncomfortably.

"My boss," he started to explain, laughing awkwardly. "Uh, nevermind." He ran off, leaving the reporter confused.

"Boss, you'll never guess who that was!"

Gibbs simply stared at him, wondering if this was going to be relevant to the case at hand-at all. But, then again, this was Anthony DiNozzo...of course it wouldn't be. He sighed. Tony, incorrectly taking this as a sign to go ahead, went on.

"That was _Jennifer Collins_. The hottie of high school......." he drifted off dreamily. "Man, she was hot....still is." He was suddenly brought back to reality with a good, firm headslap. "Thanks, Boss," he sighed.

Ziva came over, followed by McGee, Ducky, and Palmer.

"Time of death was around two this morning," Ducky told Gibbs.

"Cause of death?"

"It appears to be strangulation. I could be mistaken, however. I'll have to double check once I get back to Autopsy."

Gibbs nodded, and the team packed up to head back to the office. On their way back to the van, Tony pulled a piece of paper out that Jennifer had managed to slip into his pocket.

He glanced at the number written on it, along with a message that read "Pick me up tomorrow at 7," followed by an address. "Score!" he laughed, pumping his fist in the air.

Everyone but Gibbs stopped to look back at him.

"What is making _you _so happy? We are at a _crime scene_, Tony," Ziva remarked, as the rest of the team proceeded walking to the van.

He grinned sheepishly as he shoved the paper back in his pocket. "Sorry," he offered.

Ziva just rolled her eyes and continued walking on. Tony jogged to catch up with her. "So," he began, walking beside her. "Do you think there's a chance you could cover for me tomorrow night?"

She looked up at him. "For what?"

"Well, you see, that reporter that was there today, well, she used to go to my high school, and, man, I thought she was hot then...." he continued on as Ziva began to tune him out.

She did _not_ want to hear this. Ugh. For the past month, Tony had talked to her about nothing but girls. Girls, girls, girls. This was to be expected, of course, but he hadn't been rubbing any of it in McGee's face, which was _un_expected. Ziva was the one who had been forced to listen to Tony's endless droning for this month, at least most of the time.

And, strangely enough, she was feeling very disappointed by it all. She almost even felt hurt, wounded. She constantly had to push down the rush of feelings that attacked her everytime he mentioned a new fling. She allowed her thoughts to wander, but was brought back to reality when she heard Tony ask her, "So, what do you say?"

"What is in it for me?"

"For _you_?" he asked, contemplating.

"Yes, for me."

"Well, how does dinner on me sound?"

Ziva smiled. "Restaurant, or homemade?"

"Whatever you want," Tony replied, smiling back.

She looked away, towards the van, sighing. "All right," she finally agreed, looking back up at him.

"Yes! Thank you Zi! Thank you so much!" He grabbed her small, delicate hands in his large ones. "Thank you!" he said again, excitedly.

She glanced down at their clasped hands. "Sure." What had she gotten herself into now? She sighed as she gently took her hands back, and set her sights back on the van once again.

Tony glanced down at her face, carefully studying it. There was something in her eyes, but he couldn't place it. He looked back up, quietly sighing. He silently prayed he hadn't pissed her off or anything.....only God knows what could happen if Ziva David, Super-Secret-Ninja-Chick, got mad at you. He looked back at her for a split second, and, from the look in her eyes, he somehow knew she wasn't mad at him. She just looked lost, confused. Tony had the sudden urge to take her and hold her in his arms.

He shook his head, hoping to shake the thought out of his mind. What was this? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. No matter what, though, he was _not_ going to let this-whatever it was- get in his way the next night. No way would Ziva David ever interrupt his thoughts on another date night.

He had no clue how wrong he was.

* * *

So, any thoughts? This probably isn't the best....I'm sleep-deprived right now, haha. Please review....any comments are appreciated!!

Click that green button right there.....you know you want to! :P Thanks!


	2. Leads and Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own NCIS or any of its characters. :(

Hey everyone....I am SO sorry for not updating sooner! I have been hit with more schoolwork than I've ever had before, but I type up the next chapters as soon as I get the chance! Oh...I forgot to mention....I've decided that this is going to take place after the episodes of the 7th season, so for those of you who haven't watched this season yet, **THERE WILL BE SPOILERS**. Sorry for the late notice, haha.

Thank you so, so, so much for all of the Story Subscriptions, reviews, and all of the Favorite Author/Story adds I got! Hopefully ya'll will like these upcoming chapters...please keep reviewing!

**Thanks again!!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

McGee sat behind his desk, tapping his fingers impatiently. He was staring at his computer screen, trying to figure out their victim's computer codes.

The sailor was, surprisingly enough, a John Doe. They had run both his prints _and _facial recognition, and searched through every database imaginable, but still, nothing had come up. They were getting frustrated. If he had really been a sailor in the Navy-he had been wearing a Naval Officer's uniform when he was found, after all-he would've come up right away. But somehow, this particular John Doe had managed to conceal his identity very well. And now, McGee was stuck with figuring it out.

He sighed, watching the hundreds of pictures flashing in front of his eyes. He glanced up suddenly, as the elevator doors opened. McGee let out a breath of relief, partly because it wasn't Gibbs coming to look for answers yet, but also because it was one of his favorite people in the world: Abby Scuito, forensic scientist-goth-extraordinare.

"Tim!" She cried out as soon as she saw him. "I haven't seen any of you guys almost all morning...where have you been?"

"We had to go back out to the crime scene to double-check for any form of ID."

"Oh....I'm guessing you didn't find anything?"

"Nope."

The elevator doors suddenly opened again.

"Tony!" Abby squealed as she ran over to hug him.

"I just saw you a couple of hours ago, Abbs," he grunted as she tackled him.

She rolled her eyes and moved on to Ziva, who was right behind Tony. "I've been waiting _all day _to show you something!" She took her hand and led her right back into the elevator. Ziva happily complied, glad to get away from work for a few minutes, and went along silently, listening to Abby babble as they went down to her lab.

Tony, meanwhile, sat down at his desk, pulled out a sandwich from his file cabinet, and began eating it. McGee rolled his eyes, trying not to acknowledge the fact that he was starving.

"Do you _always_ have to eat right in front of me?" He sighed.

Tony stared at him. "Where would be the fun in eating this in private?"

He rolled his eyes a second time and turned back to his computer screen, attempting to ignore the obnoxious noises Tony was making. "Whatever."

A few minutes later, Ziva came back up the elevator and sat at her desk. She immediately started on the paperwork that had piled up on her desk, smiling.

"So, what did Abbs have to show you that was _so _important?" Tony asked, grinning mischievously.

"I do not believe that is any of your business."

"Of course it is. I'm the Senior Field Agent. Everything is my business."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "You can not always get what you want, Tony."

Tony stopped to look up at her, silent. Ziva did not move her head, although she could feel his eyes burning holes in her, staring at her intently. The room was silent for another minute, Tony never taking his gaze off Ziva. McGee noticed nothing, however. His eyes were slowly shutting, his head falling further forward every few seconds. His head abruptly hit his desk with a thud, and he immediately snapped up. Tony ripped his eyes of of Ziva to look at McGee.

"Late night, Probie?"

McGee gave him an angry glare. "Yes, Tony. I stayed up late looking for anything to help us out with this guy's identity, while you were comfortable in your own house, sleeping."

"Ah, you got that right," he smiled, kicking back in his chair as he put his hands behind his head.

Both McGee and Ziva rolled their eyes at him for the millionth time that day, and continued their work. Tony glanced at McGee, then down at the paperwork in front of him, and then back up at Ziva. What had she meant, you can't always get what you want? She continued to keep her eyes downcast, refusing to look up at him.

Tony's thoughts were interrupted by Gibbs, who was walking briskly across the bullpen, stopping at his desk to pick up his stuff. "Grab your gear," he ordered, walking back out to the elevator.

The team automatically snapped to and followed Gibbs to the van.

"Where we goin' Boss?"

"Meet Jacob Cohen," he replied, handing Tony a folder.

Tony opened it to find a picture of a suave-looking man, who had bronze skin and a perfect smile, along with dark hair and piercing brown eyes.

"Who is he?"

"Found his prints at the scene."

"Gotcha," he replied as they got into the elevator.

* * *

"NCIS!" Ziva called through Cohen's front door. There was no answer.

"NCIS, open up!" she repeated. She glanced at Gibbs when still no response came, when there was an abrupt bang inside the house. The team quickly drew their guns out of their holsters as Gibbs motioned towards the door. Ziva nodded and kicked the door, opening it with one fluid movement. They filed in, quick and silent, carefully holding out their guns.

The team dispersed throughout the house in their usual pattern, when there was suddenly another loud bang from the kitchen area. They made eye contact, nodded, and then quickly walked to the kitchen.

Tony burst through the door, and was surprised to see a large calico cat on top of the counter, knocking over glass plates.

"Clear," he sighed, putting his gun back in his holster, as everyone else did the same. The cat jumped off of the counter and quickly ran to the back of the house.

The team, however, suddenly heard a car pull up in the driveway. They walked to the front door and looked outside, where a man that they recognized as Cohen got out of the driver's side. He was carrying a brown grocery bag in his hand, his cellphone pressed to his ear.

"Jacob Cohen?" McGee called out.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, confused. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Agent Timothy McGee, and these are Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo, and David."

"NCIS," Ziva spoke up. "Naval Criminal-"

"Investigative Service." Cohen finished, smiling at her. "I know."

She smiled back. "Would you please step inside for a moment? We have some questions."

"Anything for you," he winked, leading them inside.

Gibbs smirked as Ziva stared after him for a second, and then followed the rest of her team in. Tony looked back at her, mimicking Cohen. She rolled her eyes as he winked at her, mouthing, "Anything for you!"

They shut the door behind them and sat down in the living room upon Cohen's request.

"I'll be right there," Cohen called, walking to the kitchen to put away his groceries. He finished, and then bent over to clean up the broken glass, sighing. "I don't know what I'm going to do with that cat." He threw away all of the tiny fragments, and walked to the living room. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I think Ziva would like you to-"

Ziva smacked Tony on the arm before he could finish. McGee pursed his lips, suppressing a laugh.

"What Agent DiNozzo _meant_-"

"_Very Special_ Agent DiNozzo-" Tony interrupted, at which the entire team rolled their eyes.

"-was to ask for your whereabouts during early Tuesday morning," Ziva finished her sentence, glaring at Tony.

"This Tuesday?" He asked, trying to remember. "I believe I was running."

"You believe, or you were?" Gibbs asked, expressionless.

"I _was._ I get up at five every morning to run."

"Can anybody verify that?" Gibbs noticed how Cohen looked to his left before he answered.

He sighed in response. "I don't think so."

"Have you...heard anything about a murder around here recently?"

Cohen looked up at Gibbs. "Is that what you guys are here for? You think _I_ killed that sailor?"

Gibbs only stared at him, silent, as did the rest of his team. He finally broke the silence with the question that sliced through the air like a knife.

"Did you?"

At this, Cohen snapped up from his seat, angry. "Why would you _think_ that?"

"Your fingerprints were found all over the crime scene."

"_What _crime scene?"

Gibbs sighed. "You were in the military?" He asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes sir. A year ago, there was a roadside bomb in Iraq- I was injured and got sent home." He sighed again. "I was a Marine up until then."

Gibbs slightly shook his head. "Once a Marine, always a Marine."

"Well, my platoon doesn't seem to think so."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked.

He paused, remorse washing over his face. That bomb killed three members of my platoon. And it also killed nine kids." He paused again, looking down, his eyebrows knitting together in an effort to hold back a rush of emotions. "And they're saying I set it off." He shook his head. "They don't want anything to do with me anymore."

The room was silent for another minute, and Gibbs, for the second time, was the first to speak up. "Why do they think that you set it off?"

He sighed, clasping his hands together, laying his arms on his knees.

Ziva watched him closely, studying his expression.

"In a way, I did." He stopped for a second as everyone but Gibbs rose their eyebrows. "I was disregarding direct orders from my platoon leader. Those nine kids, they were trapped in that car. We knew there was a bomb in there. And I knew that those kids were gonna die one way or another if we didn't get them out of there. So, I started looking for a way to break in the car. I was told not to, over and over again, but I didn't listen. I just kept working. But it..." he trailed off, looking out of the window to Ziva's right.

"How long were you in the hospital for?" McGee finally asked.

"About seven months."

"And the others?"

"Dead on impact."

McGee nodded, typing something into his PDA. His phone abruptly rang, however, and he stood up to walk across the room as he answered it.

Gibbs continued talking with Cohen as Tony and Ziva listened intently. After a few minutes, McGee hung up his phone and came bck over to Gibbs.

"Abby and Ducky say they need us back there."

"Now?" Ziva asked.

"Yep."

Gibbs nodded, and the team all stood up, along with Cohen.

"We still need to talk to you about the case. Stay here in-" he was cut off.

"Town. I know." Cohen finished quietly.

"Thanks," McGee said as he walked out the door behind Gibbs.

Cohen nodded as Tony and Ziva headed for the door. "Yep."

Ziva suddenly turned around. "I am sorry for your loss. All of them."

He glanced down at the floor, then looked back up. "Thanks." He smiled at her.

She smiled back and followed Tony outside.

"Soo...do you believe his story?" he asked.

"What is not to believe? It appears that he has gone through quite the ordeal."

"Well, yeah, but.."

"But what?"

Tony shook his head as they came up to the car. "Nothing."

Ziva glanced at him, and then slid into the backseat, as Tony opened the passenger door, where McGee was sitting.

"Probie." He jerked his thumb backwards as Ziva rolled her eyes.

"I got here before you, Tony."

"Do you see concern?" He gestured towards his face. "'Cause I don't."

McGee sighed, unbuckled the seat belt, and got out, allowing Tony to move into the seat.

"Ah, thank you, Probie." He closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat.

Gibbs turned to look at him. "Are you done?"

Tony's eyes snapped open as he leaned forward. "Uh, yeah, Boss."

"Good."

* * *

The elevator doors opened, and the team quietly walked to their desks to drop off their gear. Then, they went back to the elevator and headed to Abby's lab.

"Yeah, Abbs?" Gibbs asked as they walked into the room.

"So, I thought you might be interested in this," she started, opening up a new window on her computer. "Guess what I found?" She turned to Gibbs, a bright smile on her face.

"What?"

"Our John Doe's identity," Abby remarked proudly.

The team rose their eyebrows and leaned forward to look.

"Who is it?" Tony asked.

"Joshua Lutz. And....drumroll please!"

Tony drummed his fingers on the shelf, smiling and winking at Abby.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Joshua Lutz is Jacob Cohen's very own fraternity brother!"

Tony abruptly stopped drumming. "Well that's interesting."

* * *

**So, any good? I apologize if I'm messing up any military terms...I'm doing my best to research them!**

**Thanks again for everyone's support...I'll update as soon as I can! Thanks! Review, review, review! :)**


	3. Connections

**Disclaimer: **I do not own NCIS!!

Hey everyone...once again, I had a fabutastic outcome for the last chapter of this fic...thank you guys SO much! All of the reviews and subscriptions/favorites are most definitely appreciated! I'm slowly finding more time to type these chapters up, so hopefully I'll be able to publish these faster. Happy Holidays everyone! Hope you are having an absolutely amazing time!

**Thanks for all of the support!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Ziva was at a loss for words-she had thought for sure that Cohen had nothing to do with the murder. But then again, she knew that anything was possible...so why had she felt like he was telling the truth? She barely listened to Abby's chattering, trying to figure out what was going on.

"...yeah, they went to college together at UCLA in 1988. They both graduated in '92."

"How big was their fraternity?" McGee asked.

"It was a pretty big one, but it was supposedly a very tight-knit group of guys. The chances they knew each other is pretty high." She looked at Gibbs. "I'll be able to tell you more later, but Ducky wants you guys in Autopsy."

Gibbs nodded, kissing Abby on the cheek. "Good work, Abbs."

She smiled proudly as the team filed out of her lab. "Thank you!" She tilted her head, still smiling, and then turned back to her work.

"Well, now we have a connection, we just need to find a motive," Tony remarked as the team walked down the halls.

Gibbs said nothing in response as he stepped into the doors to Autopsy.

"Ah, Jethro," Ducky started. "I assume you already visited Abigail?"

"Yeah, Duck."

"Good. Well, it appears that Mr. Lutz did indeed die from strangulation, but I think you will find it interesting to know that he has post-mortem wounds. Many of them, in fact." He pointed to the marks on the body. "They're mostly stab wounds and various bruises, but in a random pattern."

"Killer was angry."

"It appears to be so. It seems he had some...unresolved issues with our victim here."

Ziva, Tony, and McGee glanced at each other.

"The killer choked him with his hands," Ducky said, indicating the bruises on Lutz's neck, "so there will be, unfortunately, no rope burns or anything of the sort on his hands to identify him."

Gibbs nodded as he turned to leave the room. "Thanks Duck."

"Anytime, Jethro." He watched the rest of the team exit through the door, and then turned back to the body. "Well, it seems that it's just you and me again."

* * *

"David, DiNozzo, bring Cohen in for a chat," Gibbs ordered as they all walked back into the bullpen. The two nodded as they grabbed their stuff and headed to the elevator.

"I'm driving," Tony stated, at which Ziva laughed and snatched the keys out of his hand.

"I do not think so."

Tony groaned loudly and tilted his head back. "But I don't wanna die!"

Ziva glared at him as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.

"You know," Tony started after a second of uncomfortable silence, "I wonder what went wrong with them. Frat brothers are supposed to be for life. Ya know?"

"Just because there is a connection does not mean that Cohen really _did_ kill Lutz."

"Well, what does it look like?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but promptly closed it. "I am not sure what to think yet."

"It seems to me that you've already made up your mind."

"Tony, I know better than that. I am not stupid, I just have a..." she trailed off. "A gut feeling."

It was silent for a second as Tony considered this, and Ziva debated it herself. Was this _really_ what she was feeling, or was it only what she _wanted_ to feel? She still hadn't come to a conclusion when they reached the car, so she decided to forget about it for the time being and just do her job.

Tony glanced at her. She had been through so much lately, that she no longer knew how to trust anyone, not even her own "gut." The want to hold her overwhelmed him once again, and he fought to shove it down. He could _not _be feeling anything for her-she was his partner, and that was it...nothing more. On top of that, he had a date that night with a certain Jennifer Collins, and he _could not_ let anything ruin it. Not able to fully escape the emotions for Ziva, he decided to start a completely new subject.

"So, have you talked to Daddy David yet?" He asked as they buckled their seat belts.

She looked over at him, and then turned the keys in the ignition. "No, I have not." She paused. "He apparently does not want anything to do with me anymore...he says that I have betrayed not only Mossad, but my country as well. I do not...I don't..." Ziva trailed off, looking out the window. "Nevermind."

Tony reached out to touch her hand, then quickly drew it back. Damn...wrong subject.

"I'm sorry. I'm...here if you ever need to talk. I'm your...partner," he added, mostly to reassure himself that that was all he was to her.

Ziva stared at him for a second. Why the hell was he being so nice to her all of a sudden? Where was the old Tony? She wanted to slam her head against the steering wheel. Out of everything that had been happening the past few months, she did not need this added on to it all.

After a minute, she nodded. "Thank-you."

"No problemo."

"So, am I still covering for you today?"

"Yep...if that's okay."

"As long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

"Yeah, that won't be a problem."

"Good. What time will you be leaving?"

"Uh, in about two hours or so."

"_Two_ hours?"

Tony smiled mischievously. "I have a pre-date-ritual-type-thing I do. Before every date. You know, like a tradition. Or somethin'."

Ziva scoffed. "A _pre-date ritual_? And I thought I had seen it all," she added.

"Not with me, you haven't," he laughed. "I go to work out for an hour or two, and then I shower, and get ready, and all that jazz."

"Jazz?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's an American saying."

"Oh. Well, you sound like you take just as long as a girl to get ready."

"Maybe I do! You have a problem?"

It was her turn to roll her eyes as they pulled up in front of Cohen's house and stepped out. "Nevermind."

They walked up the front porch steps together and rang the doorbell. The door was promptly answered, and Tony was greeted with a nod, while Ziva was warmly greeted with a smile and another wink.

She could feel her cheeks flush in response as she stepped inside the house and followed the two men to the living room, where they all took a seat. Tony laughed to himself. Not many people could embarrass Ziva David. This guy must really be unique.....

"So, what can I do for you guys today?" Cohen asked.

"We just have a few more questions for you, but I am afraid we will have to bring you in."

"Oh, that's no problem," he readily agreed, grabbing his wallet-much to Tony and Ziva's surprise.

"Well, um, alrighty then, if you'll just step out..." Tony's voice faded as he and Cohen walked out the door. Ziva, on the other hand, had frozen on her way out after noticing a piece of paper on his coffee table. She moved the pen that was laying over the writing.

_NCIS, Agent Dalid?_

_NCIS-Agent David_

Ziva could not believe what she was seeing. She read the writing on the paper over and over again, her hear skipping a beat. What had Cohen written her name down for? She sighed out of frustration over not knowing the meaning of whatever this was, and moved the pen back to where it had been. Looking up, she walked out of the door and shut it, the piece of paper still on her mind, and then got into the drivers seat of their car.

"You ready?" Tony asked her, frowning at the confused look on her face.

"Oh, um, yes. Sorry." She started the car up and they drove back to Headquarters.

* * *

Ziva watched Cohen through the glass, frowning. He was only sitting there, calmly, lightly tapping his fingers on the table before him. His face was almost blank, except for the fact that his eyebrows were slightly turned down, his forehead creased in thought.

She almost felt sorry for him-he looked a little confused. Ziva knew what he felt like…it had not been too long ago that _she_ had been the one in the chair, being accused, being questioned....interrogated. She wished she could go over and speak with him, but knew that Gibbs had told her to stay in the viewing room. She sighed impatiently, but suddenly found herself smiling as Cohen looked up and gave a small smile, along with a wave, towards the window.

Tony glanced at Ziva, who was standing beside him. He frowned, then turned back to look at Cohen again. Something didn't feel right. That crooked smile Ziva was wearing, the way she wouldn't (or couldn't) stop looking at Cohen...it _wasn't _right.

Luckily enough for him, Gibbs opened the door to interrogation just then.

"Mr. Cohen," he nodded.

"Agent Gibbs," he nodded back. "Have you found anything else out?"

"We found out who the victim was."

Cohen waited patiently as Gibbs sat down, never looking away from him.

"Does the name Joshua Lutz ring any bells?"

There was a brief moment of silence as he mulled this over.

"Mmm.....not that I can think of."

"No? How about UCLA, somewhere in the 90's?"

He looked down, guilt on his face. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

Ziva looked up at Tony, but they were both silent.

"But you don't remember a Joshua Lutz?"

Cohen remained silent and continued to look at the glass window behind Gibbs' head.

Gibbs exhaled deeply in frustration and slammed his clenched fist on the table.

"I find it hard to believe that you have no _earthly _idea as to who Joshua Lutz is!" He yelled.

"I am sorry, sir, but I don't."

Gibbs stared at him, glaring into his eyes. Cohen, however, did not break. In fact, he remained quite calm, not even breaking a sweat. Gibbs looked down, his open palms spread out across the table, then looked back up, turning around to walk out of the room. Tony and Ziva quickly left the viewing room to join him.

"Keep him here for a while. He'll break eventually."

The two nodded silently in response, and then turned back.

"DiNozzo, go have a chat with him!" Gibbs called from down the hall.

"Will do, Boss!" Tony called back. He turned to look at Ziva as he walked towards the door to Interrogation. "This should be fun."

Ziva laughed at Tony's evil grin and opened the door to the viewing room once again. "Be nice."

He scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

"Hey, man! So what's been goin' on?"

Cohen opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly interrupted by Tony.

"Okay, let's forget I asked that. How about you just tell me why you won't admit you knew Lutz?"

He closed his eyes in what seemed to be frustration, and then opened them, sighing. "Look, man, I don't know who the hell this Lutz guy is. So, how about _you_ just tell me _why_ you people can't understand that?"

"Because we know you _did._ There are _waayy_ too many connections for you to have _not_ known him."

"Then someone's setting me up or something, 'cause I don't have a freakin' clue as to who the guy is!"

"So you're still not gonna admit it?'

"There's nothing _to _admit!"

"Gettin' a little frustrated there?"

"Well yeah, because, once again, I'm being wrongly accused of _murder_!"

"_You_ murdered Joshua Lutz on Tuesday, and then you stabbed him over and over again, until you had your revenge, didn't you?" Tony yelled.

"No! What revenge? I don't have anything to do with the guy!"

"Your college record says otherwise!"

"How many times do I have to tell you people? _I don't know who_-" Cohen suddenly stopped screaming, looking over towards the door.

Tony turned to see who it was, and then turned back to face Cohen.

Gibbs had entered the room again, holding a small file in his hand. He walked over to the table to stand beside Cohen, and then pulled out a picture, tossing the rest of the file onto the table.

Cohen stared at it for a minute, his eyes wide. He then abruptly turned away, his eyes glazing over. He couldn't bear the photograph of the corpse…his heart turned violently inside of his chest.

"_This_," Gibbs said, pausing, "is Joshua M. Lutz." His voice was even, calm.

The two agents were startled to see Cohen look up with tears in his eyes.

"Joshua Lutz," he started shakily, "was my best friend. For a long time. He was the best friend a guy could ask for. And then he turned into this....monster of a person."

Tony looked back at the window, surprise clearly marked on his face.

Ziva's eyes were wide in shock as well. This had not been expected. She looked at Tony, who was still looking in her direction. After a few seconds of silence had passed, Tony turned back to Cohen, as did Ziva.

"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked.

"He....he used to be this really great guy. Honest, loyal, nice, strong, cool-the whole package. And then one day, he started…stealing all this money from different people, and started sleeping with all of his friends' girls." Cohen paused, looking down at his folded hands in his lap. "He convinced my fiancée Valerie to leave me and go off with him. He just…he turned into some kind of dirtbag."

"And why _the hell_ did you not share this information with us the _first _time we asked you?" Gibbs yelled.

Cohen hesitated. "Because I would have been killed."

* * *

**What did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!! Thanks for reading...like I said, I update as soon as I get the chance. So I really appreciate your patience! **

**Thanks again! Review, Review, Review! :)**

**~*Happy Holidays!*~**


	4. Impact

**Disclaimer: **I do not own NCIS! If I did, things would be different. :p Just kidding. Sorta.

Hey everyone! Thanks once again for all of the support! You guys are amazing :)

I'm getting these done at (somewhat) a faster pace, so I should be updating more quickly.

**Thanks again!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Tony glanced at the watch on his wrist. Damn. This was going to take up valuable time. He looked over at Ziva. "How much longer do you think he's going to take in there?"

"For the sixth time, I do not know."

He sighed impatiently, tapping his foot. Gibbs had sent the two to one of the conference rooms, in order to wait for him to finish up with Cohen.

After a few minutes had passed, Ziva abruptly stood up. "This is taking too long."

"You're tellin' me."

"I will be with Abby, if Gibbs comes back."

"Wait," Tony started, standing up as well. "Just, uh, wait."

Ziva looked at him and waited, her eyebrows raised in question. "What?"

"I just, uh...wanted to talk to you."

"We have been sitting here for almost an hour, Tony. You did not have to say anything then, so I am sure it can wait."

"Well, I'd forgotten about it up until now. I'll forget about it again if I wait anymore."

She sighed in response. "Yes?"

He smiled as she sat back down. "I just wanted to know what you wanted to do for our dinner. I mean, do you wanna go somewhere, or eat at my place, your place, what?"

"Um, well, how about that new French place down the street?"

Tony thought this over for a second. "Alright. I've been wantin' to try it anyways. How about I pick you up tomorrow around uh...7:30?"

Ziva nodded. "Sure."

An awkward silence hung over them. After a while, she spoke up again. "Anything else?"

He smiled at her again after a moment's hesitation. "Um, no. That's all. Thanks," he added.

"Sure." She smiled back at him and stood up again. "I will...see you later."

"Yep," Tony replied as she walked out of the room. "Yep."

* * *

She hated leaving him. She absolutely hated it. Ziva fought the temptation to go back and be with him as she stepped into the elevator. She loved just simply being in the same room with him, she had come to realize. They didn't even have to talk or anything-she just liked being with him.

It was frustrating. Just a few months ago, she had hated him with a passion for killing Michael, so much that she asked Gibbs to make "the decision." Just a few months ago, she had been tied to a chair in Somalia, alone, thinking that everyone had forgotten about her, that they had moved on. She never would have thought that they would come and rescue her...especially not Tony.

And she never would have even come close to guessing that he had missed her, incredibly so at that. So much that he risked his job _and _his life to rescue her. To that day, his words were still stuck in her head, attaching themselves to everything he said to her.

"_I couldn't live without you, I guess."_

Ziva leaned against the elevator wall and tilted her head back, sighing and closing her eyes. She opened them as the doors opened and then briskly walked to the lab. She smiled at the familiarity of Abby's blaring music as she opened the door. At least one thing had stayed constant in her life.

"Ziva!" Abby said, coming over to give her a hug.

"Hi, Abby." She could not help smiling again. Visiting NCIS's Happy Goth always seemed to cheer her up.

"So how did it go?"

"The interrogation?"

"Yeah." Abby turned back to her computer to finish her work, but continued listening intently to Ziva.

"Well, he admitted to being best friends with the victim. Or, at least, for a period of time."

Abby rose her eyebrows. "Wow. So did he say anything else?"

"He has motive. Lutz was having an affair with Cohen's fiancée. He ended up breaking them up, and the girl ran off with Lutz."

"Well that sucks."

Ziva nodded, focusing on the computer screen in front of them. "Yes. I guess it does."

"So I take it that's when they stopped their...being friends?" Abby asked, noticing Ziva's half-smile at her choice of words.

"Yes. He also says Lutz was stealing money from people." She paused, and then started again. "Abby, can you keep a secret?"

She pivoted to face her with a grin. "Why yes, Ziva, I can."

Ziva hesitated, looking down at her feet. She finally looked back up and opened her mouth. "Tony and I were going to pick Cohen up for questioning, and-" she was cut off.

"Don't tell me. Tony told you that he loves you?"

"_What?_" She could not hide the shock on her face. "No! Why would you even think of that?"

"_Hello?_" Abby lightly knocked on Ziva's forehead. She waited for a light bulb to go off, but it never happened. She sighed in exasperation, shaking her head. "Nevermind. Continue."

Trying to ignore Abby's remark, she went on. "Anyways, while we were speaking with Cohen in his house, I noticed a paper on his table, and it...had my name on it."

"Just your name? Nothing else?"

"No. Well, it did say NCIS, and then Agent David, but-"

"Ziva! This guy probably-" she paused. "Have you asked him about it?"

"No, but-"

"Does Tony know about it?"

"No, but-"

"You need to ask Cohen about it. Is he still here?"

"Yes, but-"

"Where?" She interrupted excitedly.

"Gibbs is still speaking with him."

"About what?" Abby whined.

"He was...threatened. Cohen was told if he tried to tell anyone he had connections with the victim, he would be killed soon after."

She patted Ziva's head after raising an eyebrow. "Oh, my little assassin. Always attracting the dangerous ones."

Ziva winced a little, but managed to disguise it (well enough) so that Abby could not see.

"Well, I think that you should ask him about it sometime. Soon."

"It is not that easy," she sighed.

"You could-"

"Abbs." The two women turned to see Tony standing in the doorway.

Ziva felt her face flush. How much had he heard?

"Hey, Tony. What's goin' on?" She glanced over at Ziva, who had picked a spot above Tony's head to look at.

"McGee called me and told me to check your email. Oh, and that your phone's not working."

Abby sighed. "It's been giving me problems lately. I'm gonna fix it later." She faced her computer and opened up her email. "Anything else?" She asked over her shoulder.

"Uh, Gibbs just wants Zi back. He finished up with Cohen."

"Oh, um, alright." Ziva spoke up. "Are you leaving soon for your date?"

"Yeah, I'm actually leavin' right now. If that's okay."

She looked at Abby. "Yes, it should be fine."

"Cool. I'll...see you two tomorrow."

Ziva nodded silently and watched him turn to leave.

"Bye Tony!" Abby called out. She laughed to herself as he left the room. "He _so_ has the hots for you," she added under her breath, looking at Ziva from the corner of her eye.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just uh, talking to myself."

* * *

"Yes Gibbs?" Ziva asked as she entered the conference room she and Tony had been in earlier.

"Go and talk to Lutz's family." He handed her a slip of paper with names and addresses on it. "Take McGee."

"Am I talking to them about anything in specific?"

"Find out if Cohen's story is true."

She nodded and quickly headed down the halls.

Her mind was still reeling as she pressed the button for the elevator. What in the world could Abby have possibly meant, Tony saying that he loved her? She forced a smile at an agent coming off of the elevator as the doors opened, and then stepped inside.

Everything had become so confusing ever since she had been rescued. She wished she could just go back to the way things were...everyone had been happier then.

The bell on the elevator rung as the doors opened again, and Ziva hurriedly went to her desk. "McGee, get your gear," she called, grabbing hers.

McGee, however, seemed to be sucked into his computer, his eyes fixated on the screen.

"_McGee!_" She slammed her fist on his desk, causing him to jump. "Let's go!"

"Where?"

"We are going to interview the victim's family," she replied, already halfway back to the elevator. "Come on!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" McGee snatched up his stuff and quickly followed Ziva into the elevator, just as the doors closed.

* * *

Tony parked his car, letting out a deep breath. He took the keys out of the ignition, casually running a hand through his hair.

Why had he lied to Ziva? A "pre-date ritual?" Where the hell had that come from? He didn't do much of anything before a date-they were part of his normal day. Or, rather, they used to be. But, still. He had had no intention of doing anything special before his date that night. So why did he lie and say he always worked out before a date?

If Ziva found out he had left early to do nothing, she would be furious. He hesitated before opening the car door. Should he just go back to work, or keep on going?

Tony eventually decided to do the latter- Ziva would just kick his butt if he went back anyways. After settling on a decision, he got out of his car, locking it, and went into his house.

He flopped down on the couch with the TV remote in hand after setting his gear down. Tony flipped through the channels idly, growing more irritated every minute.

Finally, he switched off the TV and stood up. "This isn't gonna work," he quietly said to himself. He grabbed his keys and gear again, and headed out the door, firm in his resolution to fix his lie.

* * *

I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Lutz."

The middle-aged woman looked up at Ziva, daintily wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes with a tissue. "Thank you," she shakily replied. "I had my Joshua when I was only 15, you know."

Ziva and McGee rose their eyebrows and glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.

"Wow," McGee said, finally breaking the silence. "He must have been a handful."

"What do you mean?"

He nervously tried to come up with an explanation as Ziva glanced around their surroundings. The Lutz family was well-off…or appeared to be, at least.

Their four-story house was very large and extravagant, filled to the top with expensive furnishings. They most definitely were not living the simple life.

"Mrs. Lutz, what were your son's sources of income, besides the Navy?"

"He never told us. He always managed to change the subject whenever we brought it up."

The two NCIS agents looked at each other again, then looked back at Lutz's mother.

"Did you ever catch him doing anything suspicious, or unusual?" McGee asked.

"Joshua was always doing something unusual. He was a very mysterious boy. The girls loved him for that." She giggled and looked at Ziva. "Don't you just _love _those mysterious men?"

Ziva pretended to giggle back and forced a smile, nodding. She rolled her eyes as soon as Mrs. Lutz had looked away.

"But you did not see him doing anything really out of the ordinary?"

"Um, not that I can think of. Why? Was he doing something wrong?"

"That is what we are trying to find out, so that we can make a list of any possible enemies."

"Oh, my. Well, I'm _sure _he wasn't doing anything against the law…my Joshua was a good boy."

"That may be so, ma'am, but we're just double-checking. Well," McGee turned to his partner. "I think we're done here for now."

Ziva nodded in agreement and stood up to leave. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Lutz. We will be back soon to finish up asking questions."

The woman gave a sad smile and nodded in turn. "Thank you."

McGee and Ziva smiled back as they went out the front door.

"Well that was…interesting," she remarked once they were in the car.

* * *

Tony found himself standing in front of the new gym that had recently been built down the street from his house. He sighed, his hand on the door handle. Why was he doing this? It wasn't like it mattered- Ziva wasn't going to find out anyways. Why should he care what she thought?

"Excuse me." Tony stepped aside so that a middle-aged couple could go through the door. The husband held the door open for Tony. "You comin' in?"

He paused. "Uh…yeah. I guess so." He walked inside and hesitantly went to the front desk. "Work out, or go home and watch _Die Hard_?" He quietly asked himself.

"May I help you sir?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them. "Can I get a membership application?"

"Sure thing." The receptionist handed him a form with a pen, and gestured towards a row of chairs. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." He sighed a second time. Why the hell _was_ he doing this? Tony picked the pen up off the paper and began to fill the application out.

After he finished, he handed the form back to the receptionist, along with his credit card. In turn, he received a membership card, and a locker number and code.

"That was fast," he remarked.

The receptionist smiled as she gave him his credit card back. "We like to get things done fast around here," she winked.

Tony smiled back. "Thanks. I'll, uh, go work out now." He left the desk and walked to the locker room. He put his stuff up, and then went to work on the machines. He wasn't sure how Ziva managed to find her way into his head, but he wasn't so sure that he didn't like her there either.

* * *

"Well, we talked to the victim's mother," Ziva told Gibbs. McGee was standing with them in the bullpen. "She was...unique. And it seemed she has an addiction to..." she trailed off, motioning at her face.

"Botox?" McGee suggested.

"Yes. Botox."

"Did you learn anything about the case, or just about her skin care?"

"Well, the Lutz family appears to be quite rich. Their house is big...expensive. Mrs. Lutz said that they had gotten most of their belongings and money as gifts from the victim."

"Did she say anything about him stealing it all?"

"No- she said that sh never caught him doing anything illegal." McGee spoke up.

"And she seems to be telling the truth. She didn't show any obvious signs of dishonesty. Then again, it was difficult for me to read her expressions- her face is like plastic."

"Did you talk to anyone else?"

"No one else was home or available at their jobs. His father is out of state on a business trip, his brother is in a board meeting, and his sister was not at home."

"They seem to be handling his death well," Gibbs observed. His cellphone abruptly began to ring, and he automatically walked to the elevator once he had looked at the Caller I.D.

"Yeah, Duck?"

"I need you down here-I found something new."

"I'm on my way." He flipped the phone shut as he got into the elevator.

* * *

"It turns out that Mr. Lutz was stabbed once _before _he was strangled."

"Where?"

"In his lower back--the killer temporarily paralyzed him, so that he could overpower and choke him to death," Ducky replied.

"So, the killer couldn't take him down with just his hands."

"Judging from the positioning of the marks on the victim's neck, you can see that the attacker was shorter than he was. This could also mean that he was, possibly, weaker than Lutz."

Gibbs nodded and turned to leave. "Appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Jethro!" He called after him.

* * *

Tony glanced at the watch on his wrist. Six already? He sighed, stopping the treadmill, and got off, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He then hurried back to the locker room and grabbed his gym bag that he'd dropped off.

"Thanks," he told the lady at the front desk on his way out.

"An-y-time," she replied, dragging the syllables out. She tilted her head as he walked out of the door, trying to get a better view of his butt.

Tony threw his bag in the passenger seat of his car and got in. He quickly drove home, parked, and got his stuff out of the seat beside him. As soon as he was inside, he took a hot shower and got dressed.

By the time he was done getting ready, it was 6:45, so he headed out to pick up Jennifer. "Here goes nothin," he thought to himself.

* * *

Ziva walked through the front door of her apartment. It was only 7:30, but Gibbs had sent her and McGee home early, for some unknown reason. McGee had invited her to go have Chinese with him and his sister, but she had politely declined, saying she was too tired.

She set most of her stuff down by the door and hung her coat up, letting out a sigh of relief. It felt good to finally be home after a long day. She went to the kitchen to pour herself some red wine, and pulled a take-out box of Thai food from her fridge.

She collapsed on the couch and turned on her CD player with the remote and her dinner in hand. The only noise she could hear was the music playing softly in the background as she ate, and she greatly enjoyed the quiet.

Although she loved her job, going to work almost always produced a massive headache for her now, because everyone acted so differently around her than they had before she left. She knew they didn't necessarily _mean_ to--she was somewhat of a different person herself...the others were only reacting to the change in her, trying to get used to her all over again.

Ziva gave a sad smile as she remembered when she had first become a liaison with NCIS...she had been so incredibly different then. The Team had taken a while to get used to her--they were just getting over the shock of Agent Todd's death. She sighed. She was glad she had found a family, one that would risk their jobs and lives for her, but she wished she had met them on different--better--terms.

Setting down the empty wine glass and take-out box on the floor in front of her, she laid her head down on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, things would slowly begin to turn back to normal again.

* * *

"...and so, finally, we got to the front of the line, and they wouldn't even let us in!"

Tony laughed out loud. "Oh, I would be so..." he trailed off, laughing again.

"Yeah, I know right?" Jennifer laughed as well. "It was unbelievable." She took a bite of her baked penne pasta. "So," she started, swallowing. "How do you like being an NCIS agent?"

"It's a challenging job. But it can be rewarding." He paused, smiling at her. "I like it. A lot."

"That's good," she laughed. "I wanted to work in law enforcement when I started college, but then the world of journalism caught my eye. I've been working with that ever since."

"Oh really? You'd have made a very sexy cop," he grinned.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, smiling. "Yeah, right."

"How long have you been a reporter at the station?"

"Um, only about a year. I've been working with the station itself, though, for a little over seven years."

"What, so they only promoted you to reporter a year ago? A pretty face like yours should be in front of the camera all of the time!"

She laughed. "Ooh, you are _good_."

Tony smiled back. "So, you want dessert?"

"Only if it's back at your place..."

"Oh, so you wanna play it that way, huh?" He stopped, motioning the waiter over. "Uh, yeah, check please."

Jennifer laughed again as he paid the bill and then stood up, taking her by the hand and helping her out of her seat.

"Let's go," he said, leading her out the door as they continued laughing.

* * *

"Hello?" Ziva answered her phone. She glanced at the clock. 2:35 in the morning.

"Ziva? Did I wake you up?"

"Yes, but it is okay...do you need something, Abby?"

"I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Why would I not be?" She asked, confused.

"Vance hasn't told you yet?"

"Vance hasn't told me...what?"

"I overheard him and Gibbs talking when I was leaving tonight--no one else knows. _I'm _not supposed to know," she replied hurriedly.

"Abby, what is it?"

"Director David called...your father called Vance. He wants you back."

"What?"

"He said he was a horrible father, and wants to apologize to his daughter. He wants you to go back to Israel, Ziva."

"Abby, I, um...have to go." She looked down at the blanket on her lap.

"Are you okay?"

Ziva did everything in her power to not choke on the words. "I should be fine."

"Okay," Abby replied hesitantly. "I want you to call me if you need anything. _Anything_."

"Thank you." She gently hung up the phone.

Her _father_ wanted to _apologize_? It was too out of character for him. Her father had lied to her face too many times to count, had almost forced her to become an emotionless, cold-blooded killer. So _why_ did he all of a sudden want her back in Israel? She knew he had been angry with her for cutting off all ties to Mossad, but...

There was suddenly a knock on Ziva's apartment door, and she got up quietly. Who was there at almost three o'clock in the morning? She looked through the peephole, her mind racing through the conversation she had just had. Seeing who it was, she opened the door.

"Ziva," Gibbs started.

She interrupted him. "I know."

He stepped inside and, after a minute, gently took her in a hug. She rested her loosely-clenched fists on his shoulders, along with her head.

She felt tears sting her eyes as she stood with the man who had been most like a father to her for years. "What do I do?" she whispered.

"Whatever you need to."

* * *

**Any responses? All would be appreciated!**

**Also, I'm needing some help...first off, I need a suggestion for a name for the news station Jennifer works at. It's all right if I don't have one, I just thought it would be a little bit better if I did. Second, I haven't been able to watch every second of every new episode this season, so could someone tell me if Tony still calls McGee "Probie?" I know he now calls Ziva Probie, but does he still bother McGee about it? And lastly, I'm thinking about asking for a beta...not positive I want to do it yet, but any volunteers? I would like to have someone, just in case.**

**Thanks for everything!!**


	5. Realizations

**Disclaimer: **I do not own NCIS, or the song used in this chapter. :( I do, however, own this crap thing I call my computer.

Thank you all for the incredible response I got--ya'll made my day! :p

I noticed some people were confused by what I had written in the last chapter about Ziva's father calling. What I had meant was that her father only wanted her to come back to Israel temporarily, so that he could talk to and try to reason with her. I did not, by any means, mean that he was going to try and force her into coming back to Mossad, or Israel.

I apologize for any confusion that I have created—please feel free to ask questions if you still do not understand. I would like to thank **fanoftiva** for pointing out everything in their review. I am, in a way, making this up as I go. I _do _have a basic idea if where I'm taking this story, but I do make mistakes every once in a while. I do appreciate you guys helping me clean those up.

I would also like to thank **Meatball42** for their review as well. I was trying to word my explanation to **fanoftiva**'s question, and **Meatball42 **did that for me. I was trying to convey that the Team is kind of trying to go back to how they were, like they're (somewhat) doing currently.

**Many, many, _many_ thank yous go out to my brand-new beta, Meatball42!! :)**

Also, thank you to everyone else who answered my questions and reviewed the story! Ya'll are awesome!

**Thank You!!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Ziva woke up with a headache and a sore back. She had tossed and turned all night, getting no sleep at all. Her stomach was a wreck, and her chest was in knots.

_Why_ had her father chosen to apologize? Something must be wrong...it was not normal for a man like him to just apologize. And to call her all the way back to Israel? It seemed so ridiculous. She reluctantly got out of the bed, letting out a slow, shaky breath. She really did not want to go to work that day, but knew it would probably be a good distraction.

She got in the shower, got dressed, fixed her hair, and then made herself breakfast. After cleaning up, she grabbed her gear and headed out the door. It was too late in the morning to go for a run, so she just drove straight to work.

Upon arriving in the employee parking lot, Ziva parked her car and shut it off, but did not move out of her seat. She ran her hand through her hair. What was she going to tell Gibbs? What was she going to tell Vance? Abby? The rest of "Team Gibbs?"

Her body silently begged her to not move, seeming to lock itself into the seat. Ziva, however, knew better than to run and hide from her problems, so she unbuckled and slowly got out of the car.

She sighed as she went through the doors of the building, hoping that the day would be better than it had been the day before.

* * *

Tony rushed into the NCIS building and quickly ran to his desk. He was late. Miserably late.

Everyone looked up from what they were doing to stare at him. No one bothered to ask why he was late--they all knew he had had a date the night before.

"Welcome back, DiNozzo," Gibbs remarked sarcastically.

"Sorry Boss, I-"

"Don't wanna hear it."

"Right, Boss." He started sorting through the paperwork on his desk while the McGee and Gibbs worked silently. "Where's Ziva?" He asked after a while, nodding towards her empty desk.

"With the Director."

"Ooh...is it all the finalization for her citizenship and agent stuff?"

Gibbs never looked up from his work. "Something like that."

Another moment of quiet passed, lasting until Gibbs suddenly spoke up. "McGee, DiNozzo, go visit the rest of the Lutz clan."

The two quickly headed out, thankful to escape the awkward silence and paperwork.

As they went down the elevator, however, Ziva came down the stairs from the director's office. Gibbs looked up at her expectantly as she arrived at her desk, but didn't say anything.

She sat down in her chair. "He has asked for me to leave for Israel next month," she finally said, being careful to not make eye contact with her boss. "He has given me this month to decide if I will go and listen to his apologies and explanations."

He nodded as Director Vance appeared at the top of the staircase, slightly leaning over the railing.

"Gibbs...can I have a word with you?"

"Yeah," he breathed in response, standing up. He tapped one finger on Ziva's desk as he walked past, and then glanced at her as he made his way upstairs.

She remained silent as she did her work and Vance and Gibbs disappeared into MTAC. Her thoughts and emotions were stuck in what seemed like an eternal chaos, and she loathed the self-doubt she was feeling.

Ziva suddenly looked up, hearing her name being called from over by the elevator. She sighed, seeing Tony, who promptly walked to his desk.

"Thank you so, _so_ much for last night. I _definitely_ owe you dinner now."

She shook her head in reply. "This one is on me."

"What?"

"I am sorry--I cannot make it tonight."

"Well, I could always move our reservations to a different ni-"

"No, it is fine. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright...well, um, I'm just gonna...I forgot some of my stuff." He smiled and held a gym bag up in one hand.

"Where is McGee?"

"We're going to talk to the family."

"The victim's?"

"Yup."

Ziva nodded as Tony walked back out.

"See ya." He waved with his free hand in his way into the elevator.

"See you," she replied quietly, going back to work.

* * *

Tony was quiet on the ride to Lutz's brother's house, much to McGee's surprise. He was lost in thought as he drove, only talking out loud at random times.

Why had Ziva canceled on him? He had wanted to ask her, but had decided that was probably not the best idea.

It made him wonder, of course, but what _really _puzzled him was the fact that he hadn't been able to get her out of his head the night before. It had been fine at the restaurant--Tony had managed to keep his focus on Jennifer, and very well at that. But as soon as they had gotten back to his place, Ziva was almost all he could think of.

He _did_ like Jennifer. A lot. He knew that. So why had he kept flashing back to _the_ undercover mission? Why could he only remember _Ziva's_ lips while he was kissing Jennifer? Why could he only remember _Ziva _curling up to his chest while Jennifer slept beside him?

He shook his head in disbelief as he pulled into the brother's driveway. Tony had hoped to clear up some of his issues while he was having dinner with Ziva, but that wasn't going to happen, apparently. He sighed and got out of the car, along with McGee.

"Somethin' on your mind, Tony?"

"Why would you think _that_, McKnowItAll?"

"You're just quiet. Which is...unusual for you." He rang the doorbell. "NCIS!"

The door was opened by a man in his twenties who didn't look too surprised to see them.

"Jackson Lutz?"

"Yeah. Hey." He stepped aside so they could come in, and then shut the door behind them. "What can I help you with?"

"We just have a couple of questions," Tony replied.

Jackson motioned towards the couch in the living room. "Have a seat." They did, and he sat across from them.

"So you're Joshua's little brother?"

"Yep. He's about 13 years older than I am."

"We're sorry for your loss."

"Yeah...thanks."

Tony frowned at what seemed like a lack of emotion. "Were you and your brother close?"

"We were, a while ago."

"What's a while?"

"About ten years."

"What caused you guys to grow apart?" McGee asked.

"A bunch of stuff, really." He paused. "To sum it all up, Josh turned into some kind of a greedy, conniving son of a bitch. All of his old friends left him, including our family. Our mom's the only one that couldn't ever see past his whole act. He was a classic mama's boy."

"We've been told that he began stealing money from people. Is that true?"

"Yep. From right under their noses. No one ever really saw it coming, until all of them got together and figured it out. That's when we all left him."

"Anyone report him?"

"They tried to, constantly. But somehow, he always managed to find his way out of it."

"No one ever figured out how?"

"Nope."

"Hm. That's interesting," Tony remarked. "Do you know what the total amount of money that he stole was?"

"No clue. We keep coming across more and more people that he stole from."

"We'll need a list of those people you know of."

"Yeah, sure."

"Can you think of any names off the top of your head that could have been a threat to your brother?"

"Umm..." Jackson thought a moment. "Well, there's Mark Bauer, and Mykayla's husband and his family."

"And who's Mykayla?"

"Our sister. Her last name is Luna now."

"Alright, cool. Thanks." Tony and McGee stood up to leave.

"Oh, and his old best friend...uh," he scratched his forehead, squinting, trying to recall the name. "Oh! Jacob Cohen, somethin' or other."

Tony shot McGee a look at Cohen's name, and then turned back to nod at Jackson. "Thanks again."

"Yeah, sure."

The two agents walked out and got back in the car.

"Well, looks like Cohen's our man," Tony said, buckling his seatbelt.

* * *

"Hey, Abby."

"Tony!" She quickly closed out the windows on her computer. "Hey…what's goin' on?"

He frowned, suspicious. "Not much…what's goin' on with _you_?" Tony leaned over to try and get a look at her computer.

"Nothing! Nothing at all. I'm just uh, working on something for Gibbs."

"Oookk...if you say so."

"I _do _say so, Tony. Anyways, what did you, um, need?" She asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Well, you know how Ziva and I were gonna have dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, your date?"

"It's not a date!" He insisted. "Just a thank-you gesture."

"_Uh-huh_. Okay. Go on."

He glared at her, then continued. "She canceled on me, and she's in a bad mood or something…do you know what's bothering her?"

Abby made a zipping motion across her lips and turned away. "I already promised to not say anything."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Abby, please?"

"Tony, I can't!"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke up again. "Abby, I'm worried about her. That look she had on her face…" he trailed off, as Abby's shoulders dropped.

"Tony! You're so sweet to worry," she smiled. "But…" she paused. "Things are confusing. You sure you wanna get in the middle of all this?"

"I went to Somalia to get her—I can take this."

She sighed. "Her dad wants to be her dad. Or so he says."

"I don't get it—"

"He wants her to go back to Israel for a little while to apologize and try to make up everything to her. Also…" she hesitated.

"What?"

"He asked for her to leave NCIS. He said if she doesn't, it's fine, but he really wants to be the father she never had."

"That makes no sense. Why would he suddenly want to drop everything? It's too—"

"Hinky," She finished for him.

"Exactly. So, what is she going to do?"

"She's trying to figure everything out."

"Ziva's not _actually_ considering this, is she? She's a grown adult…she doesn't need him anymore."

"Tony, he's her _dad_."

"Yeah, some dad." He glanced towards the door, then turned back to face her computer. "So what was that you closed out?"

She sighed. "I was looking to see if there were any obvious reasons for him wanting her over there. I doubted anything would ever come out of it, but I decided to give it a shot." She went on as he slowly nodded. "Tony, we _have_ to do something."

"I'm planning on it."

Abby glanced at him. "What are you thinking?"

He shook his head and turned to leave. "Keep looking," he called over his shoulder.

* * *

Ziva sat in the conference room with Jacob Cohen in silence. Gibbs had sent them to wait for his instructions on what to do with Cohen's situation. She was busy filling out papers, and Cohen simply sat there, watching her. After a few minutes, he spoke up.

"Agent David?"

She looked up from her work. "Yes, Mr. Cohen?"

"Please, call me Jacob."

"Alright then Jacob," she smiled. "What is it?"

"I was just wondering…how much longer am I going to be in here?"

She gave him an apologetic look. "I am not completely sure. I'm sorry."

He sighed in response. "It's fine."

She spoke up again a minute later to break the quiet. "Cohen is a Hebrew name. Are you of Israeli descent?"

"Yes, I am actually. David is an Israeli name," he observed, smiling at her.

She smiled back a second time, but it quickly went away. "Yes, it is."

"What part are you from?"

"Tel-Aviv." She tried to not wince as she said the name. "And you?"

"Jerusalem. My family's been there forever."

"Oh really? I loved going to Jerusalem with my sister, Tali. She used to take me to go to the Mahane Yehuda Market every weekend." She smiled sadly at the memory, which Cohen noticed. He chose, however, to not ask about it for the time being, as he could easily see it was a tender topic.

"That was my favorite place to go to with my brother Amir. We used to always go and see how many pieces of fruit we could steal without the merchants noticing," he smiled.

Ziva laughed. "You were bad children!"

"Yeah, I guess we were. Our parents were rich, and since we got everything we asked for and never heard the word no, we got bored pretty quickly. Made up our own fun."

She nodded and offered a half-smile. "My childhood was not quite like that."

Cohen waited for her to elaborate, but she never did. He considered asking her about it, but the thought soon left his mind as Gibbs entered the room.

"Wait outside," he told Ziva.

She obeyed, and closed the door behind her. She could hear Gibbs and Cohen's muffled talking inside the room, but wasn't able to understand any of it. A few minutes later, Gibbs came out and began walking towards the elevator, motioning for Ziva to follow him.

"Gibbs, what is going on?"

"We're letting Cohen go, but we're putting a tail on him to see where he goes, who he contacts." He stopped walking suddenly, and turned to face her. "Go home. You're distracted, and I don't blame you."

She closed her eyes in a mix of frustration and anguish as he gently kissed her forehead.

"Go."

Sighing, Ziva followed his orders again. She could only hope that she would be able to figure everything out before it was too late.

* * *

"Where's Ziva?" Tony asked McGee as he walked into the bullpen, sitting at his desk.

"Gibbs sent her home early. She was sick or something."

"Oh." He began to type up a reply to an email he had received, but suddenly stopped and looked up. "Hey, Probie, where's the closest store?"

"Uh, grocery store? About two blocks away from here. Why?"

He went back to his typing. "Just wondering."

* * *

He sighed, standing in front of her apartment door. Tony knocked, glancing down at the bags he was holding in his hands.

"God, I hope this works," he whispered to himself.

Tony smiled as Ziva opened the door, but his grin quickly faded once he saw how distressed she was.

Ziva had just gotten out of the shower, and she looked like a train had hit her. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing back the wet curls that were in her face. She did not smile at Tony in return, but slightly tilted her head instead.

"Tony, what are you doing here?"

He grinned and held up the grocery bags that he was carrying. "Where's the kitchen?"

She began to protest, but he quickly interrupted her, shaking his head. He wasn't going to just leave her there in the state that she was in.

Ziva sighed heavily and opened the door wider, pointing to the kitchen. She was too exhausted to even try to argue. Tony smiled at her again and walked inside, following the direction of her finger. He set the bags down on the counter and began taking things out.

He glanced over at Ziva as she came over to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. He stopped moving as he looked at her. "Well, ya gonna help me?"

She hesitantly complied, and went over to assist him silently. Finally, she broke the awkward silence.

"What are we making?"

"An old DiNozzo favorite," he replied, waving a package of spaghetti noodles around.

She almost smiled, but her lip quickly turned back down. However, Tony had caught it.

"I saw that," he grinned.

When she said nothing in reply, he couldn't help but feel horrible for her. He so badly wanted to help her, but had no clue as to how.

"So..." he started, hesitant.

"Abby told you, didn't she?"

"Um...yeah. I'm sorry--I was just worried about you."

She quickly shook her head in response as she put on the pot of spaghetti to cook. "I am fine."

Tony caught Ziva's eye as she looked up, and a moment of heavy silence passed between them.

She could feel his eyes piercing through her, reading her like an open book. She had always been amazed as to how he could see past the outer shell of her emotions.

She reached up to touch a curl that had fallen in her face, self-conscious of her displayed emotions.

"I'm sorry," Tony finally said again, more gentle than he had been before.

"Thank you," she replied after a few seconds, barely audible.

He carefully touched her hand and smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"There it is," he remarked, as his grin grew wider.

She laughed, and the timer on the oven went off.

"Noodles are done." Tony turned off the stove and stirred the spaghetti. "You wanna get the table set?"

Ziva turned to get bowls out of the cabinet, along with the forks.

She sighed quietly, trying to understand how in the heck Tony made her laugh while her world, right before her very eyes, was crumbling apart.

* * *

"Target located," the man whispered into his comm unit.

"Good. Take them out."

The assassin raised his rifle and took aim. He was perspiring profusely...he had never been ordered to do a hit on someone like this. "Permission to shoot, sir?"

"Permission granted."

He squeezed his eyes shut once, and opened them back up. Then, with one single, fluid movement of his finger, he took the life of the figure resting in the shadows of the night.

The voice came over the comm unit again, resonating in the assassin's ear. "Now find Ziva."

* * *

He loved to see her smile. He knew he did, and in that moment, he wasn't going to deny it.

They were sitting on her couch, watching a movie in a sweet kind of silence, which was only broken by occasional laughter.

Ziva seemed to be enjoying the movie, which was good. She didn't need all of the added stress and grief that her father caused her, so any little distraction Tony could offer...well, he was going to make sure it happened.

He grinned as she erupted into laughter at something that had been said on the movie, and then he stood up to get the wine he had brought over.

"Want any?" He held up the bottle as she turned to look.

She nodded. "Glasses are in the cabinet above the sink."

"Thanks.

Tony grabbed the glasses and poured the wine, smiling as heard Ziva laugh yet again.

He picked up the glasses and carried them back into her living room. "Here you go," he said, handing her one.

"Thank you," she smiled.

He sat back down on the couch, hoping that she didn't notice he had sat closer to her this time. The movie ended soon after, and the two got up to clean up the mess they had made in the kitchen. Ziva put on a CD as they washed the dishes together, and Tony smiled when he heard who was singing.

"Lonestar, Ziva? I didn't take you for a country-music type of person."

"I do not really like country music, but I made an exception in this case."

"Can I ask why?"

She paused. "Well, he was the first American artist Tali and I ever heard, and, I don't know...he kind of stayed with me." She smiled. "I did not take you for a country music type person either."

"Huh?"

"Well, you knew who he was right away."

"Oh, yeah. I don't like much country music. My best friend's sister just used to listen to him all of the time."

"Oh."

Ziva picked up the pot they had used to boil the water for the spaghetti in, but it abruptly slipped and fell into the soapy water, splashing Tony.

"Hey!" He laughed, splashing her back.

She laughed in turn, a wide grin on her face. ""Sorry!" She reached up to get a pile of soap bubbles out of his hair, when the song changed.

Ziva suddenly felt Tony's eyes locking on her, and became very aware of the words of the song as they played quietly in the background.

_"Everytime our eyes meet,_

_this feeling inside me,_

_is almost more than I can take."_

She slowly withdrew her hand and looked down, and then looked back up to meet Tony's gaze.

_"Baby, when you touch me,_

_I can feel how much you love me,_

_and it just blows me away."_

He gently pushed away a curl that had fallen in front of her eyes, his face serious.

_"I've never been this close to anyone,_

_or anything, _

_I can hear your thoughts,_

_I can see your dreams."_

They were both suddenly aware of the close proximity of their bodies, waiting silently with bated breath, which was hot on their lips.

_"I don't know how you do what you do,_

_I'm so in love with you,_

_and it just keeps getting better,_

_I wanna spend the rest of my life,_

_with you by my side,_

_forever and ever,_

_every little thing that you do,_

_Baby, I'm amazed by you."_

Ziva could not tear her eyes away from Tony's, and Tony couldn't tear his from hers. She was frozen under his stare, and torn inside. Everything was changing all at once, and she could feel it weighing heavily on her shoulders. Her mind raced, and she thought of her father for an instant. She had to ask herself, where was she supposed to be?

In the next second, she found herself in Tony's arms, crying quietly into his shoulder; and she knew that she was where she belonged for that moment.

Suddenly, Tony tilted her chin up with his finger to look her in the eyes. Their lips were mere millimeters away, and they could feel each and every shuddering, expectant breath that the other took.

They held each other's gaze for another very long minute, until they could bear the overwhelming desire no longer. Ziva wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met, and they held each other close.

_"The smell of your skin,_

_the taste of your kiss,_

_the way you whisper,_

_in the dark,_

_your hair all around me,_

_Baby you surround me,_

_you touch every place in my heart._

_Oh, it feels like the first time,_

_every time,_

_I wanna spend the whole night,_

_in your eyes."_

Tony and Ziva were unaware of the chorus of the song repeating, and did not even notice when the song ended and the CD stopped, for they knew, although it had not been spoken of out loud, what little time they had left.

* * *

**How did you like it? I would _love _to hear your thoughts!! It might, unfortunately, be a while for me to upload another chapter again. Maybe. Or, who knows, I could catch a lucky break and be able to find some time this week. Psh. I wish. Oh, how I adore school. :P**

**By the way, the song is called "Amazed" by Lonestar.**

**Let me know what you thought!! **


	6. Mistakes

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own NCIS or any of its characters. :{

Thanks to everyone who responded to the last chapter! I surrree do love getting reviews! :]

Don't really have much to say…more chapters should be coming up a little faster now, since **SUMMER** is _finally _here! Thank the Lord. I apologize for the loonngg wait for this chapter. The last few weeks of school are always a living hell.

More thanks go to my very patient beta, **Meatball42**!

Hope ya'll like this chapter! Kinda of a longish one ;p Thanks again! :)

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Tony opened his eyes, stretching as he tilted his head down to look at Ziva. She was still sound asleep, curled up against his chest. He smiled and moved his finger to play with one of her curls.

"Zee?" he whispered, looking at the clock on her nightstand. 5:00 in the morning.

She didn't stir, so he stopped messing with her hair and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent.

Tony gave a content sigh and smiled again. He could feel her chest rising and falling through her arms, her forehead pressed against his chin. He couldn't help but like the fit.

He drifted off back to sleep, his breath falling in sync with hers.

* * *

"So, how long are you staying here?"

Cohen turned to look at Gibbs. "Maybe one more week."

He nodded in response, keeping his mouth shut. He wasn't about to disobey direct orders from Vance.

It was quiet in the room for the next few minutes, until Abby burst into the room.

"Gibbs! I need you to come look at something, right now!"

He stood up slowly after giving her a look and began to follow her out. He stopped halfway out the door, however, and glanced back at Cohen.

"Com'on."

Cohen, looking surprised, stood up and followed them to the lab.

"What's goin' on, Abbs?" Gibbs asked as they walked through the doors.

"_Guess_ what I found."

"Abby-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't like to guess." She continued as Gibbs smiled to himself. "Well, Major Mass Spec decided to kick it today, and he found..." she turned to her computer, beaming. "This."

Gibbs stared at the blob of nothingness on the screen as Cohen tilted his head all around, trying to get a different point of view.

"What is it?"

"Basically…poison," she smiled. "Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him sick. However…" she turned to point at Lutz's clothing that was lying on one of her tables. "I found more of it on his clothes. Enough to be fatal. Someone was trying to kill our petty officer by poisoning him."

"Well, apparently, they got to him in a more efficient way," Gibbs replied. "Why did the rest not make it into his body?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out. It might have been an accident, so it might have just gotten spilled on him."

"Good work, Abbs." He walked over to her refrigerator and pulled out a Caf-Pow!

"Gibbs! How'd you get that in there? That's the second time now!"

"Rule number four," he replied, kissing her on the cheek.

Abby sighed, shaking her head and smiling as the two men left the room.

* * *

Tony's sigh broke through the stillness of the room.

"Zee?" He asked. No response. He rolled over to see that the bed was empty where she had been lying.

He sat up and swung his feet off the bed, struggling to stand up. "Ziva? You still here?"

No answer came, so he pulled on his clothes and made her bed, a smile plastered on his face the entire time.

Glancing at his watch, Tony decided that it was still early enough in the morning to run back to his place and get new clothes, so he quickly grabbed his keys and began to leave. On his way out, however, he noticed a piece of paper taped to the door with the word "Sorry" written on it in Ziva's handwriting.

He grinned, dismissing it, and left. They would talk later.

* * *

"Oh, Mr. Cohen—I mean, Jacob." Ziva smiled at the man sitting at Tony's desk. "What are you doing up here?"

"Your director gave orders for me to be 'assistance' in the case. I'm no longer a suspect," he smiled back. "Hope you're okay with me working with you guys."

"Um, yeah, sure. No problem." She sat down at her desk, logging onto her computer. After a moment's hesitation, however, she spoke up again. "If you don't mind me asking-"

"What made him take me off the suspect list?"

Ziva smiled apologetically. "Yes…what exactly happened?"

"Well, it's a long story, but…" he looked up at the ceiling, then back down at her. "Basically, I was sent by someone from Israel. That person contacted Director Vance, who then took me off the 'list'. I really can't disclose any more information."

Her eyebrows went up at his response. "Wow. Well, uh…nice to have you on our team."

"Thanks," he laughed, then looked around at the room. "So, do you have anything you want me to look at, check out?"

She placed her forearms on her desk, folding them so that she could lean forward. "Not as of this moment." Ziva looked around the room as well, mimicking Cohen. "Do you know where Gibbs is?" She asked after he had laughed at her.

"Yeah, he's with Abby. You need him?"

"No, it can wait. Mr—Jacob, can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"If you grew up in Israel, how—"

" Is my English so good?"

She nodded again, feeling bad that she was asking so many questions.

"Eh, that's a long story too."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It is fine." She looked back at her computer and started typing away.

"You seem distracted," he observed after a minute.

"Huh?"

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, um…yes. Sorry. I just have some…things going on."

"Do you wanna ta-"

"No." She shook her head. "I am sorry, I just-"

"Naw, it's cool. I understand."

Ziva smiled at him, nodding her thanks. She wondered why she was apologizing to him so much.

McGee suddenly walked into the bullpen, carrying a tray full of coffee. "Morning, Ziva, Ton-" he stopped when he saw who it was. "Or…Cohen."

"Mornin,'" he waved in response.

"Good morning, McGee." Ziva smiled as she accepted the coffee McGee handed to her. "Thank you."

"No problem." He turned to awkwardly face Cohen, looking down at Tony's drink. "Coffee?"

He began to shake his head, but McGee insisted. "From the looks of it, he won't be back for a while anyways. He can always get himself another cup."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah. Sure."

McGee put the drink in his hand and went to sit behind his desk, switching on his computer. "Have you heard from him, Ziva?"

Her head shot up to look at him, but she silently reminded herself to keep her cool. "I haven't."

He nodded in reply and started his work.

She could feel her face reddening. What was the deal? No one knew about the previous night, but yet, she felt as if everyone in the office was asking her about _him._ Her head shot up as the elevator bell dinged, and quickly stood up when she saw Tony walking out.

Ziva excused herself, walking away. "I have to talk to Gibbs."

Tony reached the bullpen, pointing after her retreating figure with his thumb. "Where's she going?"

"Gibbs."

"Oh." He glanced at Cohen sitting at his desk, then did a double-take. "Why are you…"

"Oh, sorry man." He stood up, motioning for Tony to have a seat. He glanced around the room uncomfortably, then looked at the two men. "I'll uh, be right back."

"Yeah, okay." Tony nodded, looking at McGee. "What's that guy's deal anyways?"

He shrugged, pursing his lips. "Who knows?"

* * *

Ziva reached the door to Abby's lab, but stopped outside of it and changed her mind, shaking her head. She changed direction, heading down to Autopsy.

She hesitated outside that door as well, sighing before she went in.

"Ziva! What brings you down here?" Ducky smiled at her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Oh, absolutely dear!"

She took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Ducky, what would you do if you-almost unconsciously-became involved with someone that you shouldn't have?"

He frowned in confusion. "Well, it would depend on the person. If they meant something to me, I would consider exactly how _much _they meant, and then I would most likely go from there. But if it was just a...well, a mistake, I would break everything off."

"Well what would you do if they were...well, if they meant something to you before, but, then after, they...meant _more_?"

Concern spread across his face. "Ziva...why are you asking me this?"

She looked up from her feet to meet his eyes.

"I am fine, Ducky, it is not me that I am talking-"

He gave her a gentle look that made her freeze in her tracks. "I do not know," she sighed.

"Is it-"

"Please. I do not know what to say to him. I am afraid I will hurt him, but, right now, I am only hurting myself, and I think that I must leave in order to avoid any further-"

He interrupted her again. "Ziva, slow down, my dear. You..." he trailed off as the doors opened. "Jethro! Can I be of assistance?"

"Leon wants to talk to Ziver."

She nodded, half-heartedly smiling at the two on her way out.

Gibbs watched her leave, then turned back to face Ducky. "Is she okay?"

He sighed heavily in response. "I'm afraid not. I fear that her time in Somalia has stripped away much of her thought process, along with the wall that she was able to guard her emotions with. She's hurting, and needs someone, but...she doesn't realize it yet." Ducky paused. "Gibbs, I'm afraid that she's on the verge of leaving for Israel. The poor girl cannot take the pressure she is currently under, and to her, the best option is to leave and go back to her homeland."

He heard Gibbs sigh in turn. "She'll figure it out."

* * *

"Agent David," Director Vance greeted her, ushering her into his office and closing the doors.

Her eyebrows knit together in puzzlement as she nodded, giving the sign to continue.

"Your father has asked me to tell you that if you _do_ decide to go to Israel, Mr. Cohen will be accompanying you."

"Jacob Cohen? The man downstairs?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, but what for? And what does my father have to do with him?"

"He didn't inform me. However, he was very insistent upon it." He paused, studying her expression. "Have you decided yet?"

"No." She shook her head. "I am afraid not."

"Let me know."

Ziva nodded and turned to leave, letting her shoulders drop. She did not need any added stress. "Thank you."

* * *

Ziva glanced at her watch. 8:00 in the evening. She sighed and began packing up her things as she prepared to leave. She had managed to get some work done, but she had also managed to avoid _him_ the whole day, only running into him once, but she had quickly excused herself to escape him. She stood up, turning off her computer, and then walked to the elevator to go home.

"Ziva!"

She turned to see Tony running downstairs from MTAC, chasing after her, but instead of stopping, she sighed quietly and continued going into the elevator.

"Hey!" He called, stopping the doors with his hand. "Can we talk?"

She let out yet another sigh, stepping aside to make room for him. Tony smiled as the doors closed behind him, but the grin dissolved once he got a good look at her face.

"What's wrong?"

When Ziva said nothing in response, Tony sighed in turn and switched the elevator off.

"Look, I'm not sure what's wrong with you, but I hope it's not about last night. Because I think it was right, all of it, and-"

"It was wrong," she whispered. "All of it."

"What?"

"It was not supposed to happen."

"Why not?" He asked, in shock.

"It just…it wasn't, Tony."

He ran a hand through his hair, groaning. "So, what, you're just gonna pretend like it all never happened? You're just going to _ignore_ it?"

"What other choice do I _have_?"

"How about you _accept_ it? _Accept_ that there's something there!"

Their voices were raising now, and they could both feel the tension in the air. It was suffocating them.

"I _cannot_ accept it! It is not as simple as that!"

"Why not, Ziva? Why is it so hard?"

"Because, Tony-" she abruptly stopped mid-sentence. "Because," she breathed.

"So you're telling me you felt _nothing_? At _all_? You didn't, for one instant, feel like it was _right_?"

There was a pause, and in it, utter silence.

Ziva's eyes glazed over, and she turned to hide her face from him.

Tony cringed as her lie pierced through the air.

"No. I did not feel anything," she remarked coolly, flipping the elevator back on.

The doors opened, and the light of the main office poured into the elevator. Ziva began to walk out, never looking back at him, for the fear that he would notice her tears.

"It was a mistake," she told him, pausing mid-step. "That's all it was."

Tony watched her as she walked away, but didn't move when the doors began to shut. He stood stock-still in the corner of the elevator, and the word 'mistake' was formed and passed across his lips.

* * *

Ziva walked to her car in the dim light of the parking garage, tears slowly dripping off of her face. She had just proven herself right—you become to attached to someone, and you're only setting yourself up for heartbreak.

She paused outside her car, searching in her bag for her keys. However, her phone began to ring, so she pulled it out instead and answered it, hooking it between her shoulder and her ear as she continued the search for her keys.

"David."

"Ah, Ziva." The voice came low and menacing, rumbling through the earpiece. "How nice to hear your voice again. It's been a while."

She stopped rummaging through her bag, frowning as she reached her hand up to hold the phone. "Who is this?"

"If you don't know, it doesn't matter right now. What _does _matter-"

"How am I supposed to know who you are?"

There was a frustrated sigh on the other end. "What _does_ matter, Ziva, is the fact that you have something I want. And that your keys…" he trailed off, and Ziva frowned again in confusion.

She was soon startled, however, by the abrupt sound of metal against concrete.

The man came on again, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Are right there."

* * *

Tony sat in his dark car, feeling numb. Just the night before, everything had been perfect, and now…he had just been told it was all nothing. A _mistake_. A stupid, _stupid_ mistake. He felt nothing but absolute resentment towards the word. All it had done was put a barrier between him and Ziva. And, frankly, he couldn't stand it.

He realized he was whispering "so close" to himself and shook his head, trying to get her out of his mind, even though she was the only one he wanted in his thoughts.

There was a knock at his window, and he turned to see Abby standing there, smiling and waving.

"Come on, we're waiting for you!"

He gave her a half-smile and nodded. "Yeah, okay." Tony flipped open his phone. Ten o'clock, and no messages, no calls, no nothing. He just wanted her to call and say that she was wrong. For everything to be okay.

He closed it and studied it lying in his palm, wondering how such a little thing could cause him so much torture.

Sighing heavily, he opened the door and stepped out, slipping the phone in his pocket. He shut and locked the door behind him, as Abby linked arms with him, noticing his somber expression.

"What's wrong, Tony?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just a few…mistakes." It felt like a knife was twisting itself around in his gut. Those were the last words he had ever wanted to hear himself say, and yet...there they were. He hated himself for even uttering the word.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She could sense that it wasn't something he wanted to discuss, whatever it was.

He pushed open the doors to the bar the Team frequented. "It's fine."

The two took a seat by McGee, Ducky, and Palmer, who were already "drowning the day's events," as they liked to call it.

"Bartender, two scotches please!" Tony called out.

The bartender nodded. "Comin' your way!"

Tony and Abby had just barely finished their drinks when Tony's phone rang.

"Yeah, DiNozzo."

The rest of the Team watched as his face changed; worry silently screamed through his eyes. "Gotcha. We'll be there in a sec, Boss."

He hung up as he looked at everyone. "That was Gibbs. Something happened to Ziva."

Abby's hands flew to her mouth as Ducky murmured the words, "Oh, no."

* * *

Tony and Abby rushed into the bullpen where Gibbs was hovering over McGee and his computer.

"What's going on?" Tony shouted over the unusually loud rush of the office.

"Infiltration," McGee yelled back. "I'm trying to trace a number!"

Gibbs smacked him on the back of the head. "Well trace it instead of talkin' to them!"

"Sorry, Boss."

Tony and Abby walked to his desk, peering over his shoulder to see the call being bounced from city to city, country to country. Suddenly, however, whoever was using the phone shut it off.

McGee sighed. "Lost it."

"Damn it," Gibbs breathed. He walked to the elevator, motioning for his team to follow him.

Once they were all inside, Abby broke, not being able to take it any longer. "What happened, Gibbs? You said something about Ziva on the phone."

"Someone broke into the building, stole her keys, called her on her phone and threatened her."

"They were in the parking garage with her," McGee added. "They threw her keys at her."

"Oh my God," Abby gasped.

Tony put his palm to the side of his face. "Is she okay? Where is she?"

"She's with Ducky and Palmer in Autopsy."

"Is she hurt?"

"Well…"

Gibbs finished for McGee. "Be careful with her."

The doors opened, and the team quickly rushed into Autopsy. Once they had gotten inside, though, they came to an abrupt halt.

Ziva was sitting with the two medical examiners, staring straight ahead. Her face was blank, expressionless, empty. She didn't seem like she was able to talk, much less move.

Gibbs cautiously approached her, like you would a lost, scared, cornered puppy.

"Ziva?"

Her eyes didn't move to meet his, so he reached for the hand that Ducky was not already holding.

"Ziva? Do you wanna talk now?"

Tony had never heard his voice so gentle before, but Ziva slowly turned her head to look at him.

"It was him," she replied, her whisper barely reaching their ears. "It was him, Gibbs."

"It was who?" He gently stroked her hand with his thumb, trying to ease the answer out of her.

"Him. It was him. It was-" she broke off, hysterical tears escaping her body.

"Hey, hey," Gibbs soothed her. "It's okay. You're safe, you're fine. We've got you."

The team could see her back jerking with sobs as she desperately gasped for air, gripping the men's hands. As her cries grew more frantic, the team shot each other looks, worry written on their faces.

Gibbs pulled her into his arms, and she cried into his shoulder.

"It was him, I know it," she kept whispering over and over again. "It was him."

"Hey, _who_ was it?"

The name broke through the ice in the air as she said it between sobs and spasms.

"Saleem. It was Saleem."

"Zee, that's not possible," Gibbs spoke up after a minute, letting the shock wear off. "He's dead."

"No," Ziva shook her head. "It was him."

Gibbs glanced at Ducky over her head, his eyes empty. Her shell had finally cracked.

* * *

Any thoughts? Sure would love to hear them! :]

Again, sorry for the very-long wait, and I should be uploading a little more quickly now that school is almost out.  
But then again, knowing me, we'll just have to wait and see how that goes, haha.

I would _definitely_ love some reviews! Hope to hear from everyone:)

**Thanks for reading!**


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